And I quite liked that.
“I’m more than happy to start straight away,” I told her.
“Monday,” she replied, concealing her surprise at my readiness. “Come Monday and get what you can done. I’ll leave the gates opened for you.”
Thing was, the house was in immaculate condition. It had the obvious appearance that no one had resided in it for a long while, but it’d been left in a relatively clean state. There was only the matter of dusting, vacuuming, washing of the sheets, and other general maintenance. They were all very small tasks. And if Kale Brenner was coming back in a matter of weeks, it would just mean cleaning after one man who would probably not even be around in the process of it.
That was my thinking then. Taking a second stroll around now, armed with my microfiber cloth and dusting spray, I began doubting myself. There was someone in the house. If it was Sheryl, surely she would have told me she would be here.
No, I knew it was Kale Brenner.
I went about my business cleaning the bottom floor and ignored the light noises every now and then from above. I changed the bed sheets, mopped the marble floors, and dusted the ceilings and chandeliers. Wasn’t long before I was consumed in my own thoughts…
Not one family photo around here… Maybe he’s just moved in. Furniture looks brand new.
Why the hell am I meant to ignore the guy?
Sheryl had said he wasn’t easy. Well, that could be construed in a million different ways. Not easy how? Was he just an asshole kind of a guy? I’d had my fair share of assholes; he couldn’t be any worse than them.
I stopped in front of one of the bathroom mirrors and tidied up my bun. Loose brown curls had fallen about my chin and framed my oval face. I pulled them back, telling myself I simply wanted to appear presentable in front of the rich playboy – not catch his eye.
I headed up the stairs after, mindfully keeping an ear out. The second floor was a wide, open concept and the room that directly started from the top of the staircase appeared to be two rooms merged together. One half was a living room with black leather couches facing a massive television, and the other half was a workout centre: treadmill, stationary bike, multi-station bench, and weights. A large corridor interrupted the wall, and from memory there were two master bedrooms with their own bathrooms up here. I would have to go back down and fetch my bucket of cleaning supplies.
I headed quietly down the corridor, counting three rooms. Opening one pine wood door, I walked into a large study room and surveyed the place. It needed dusting and –
“You should take those jeans off, you know.”
I froze at the feminine voice coming from one of the rooms.
“Not taking off anything,” retorted a deep male voice. “Just turn around and I’ll do the rest.”
Do the rest? Oh, hell no.
I was immediately grateful I didn’t open a bedroom. Being here was suddenly a very stupid idea. I should have stayed downstairs, or at least called Sheryl –
“Do you always have to fuck this way?”
Another pause.
Really, really awkward now.
I hurried to leave the room when I clumsily tripped over a stack of books on the floor.
Where the hell had they come from?!
They fell rather noisily, but not as loud as the, “Ouch!” that escaped my mouth when I fell along with them, slamming my knee on the floor.
Shit. Shit.
I quickly began putting the textbooks back in place, cursing inwardly –
“Who the hell are you?”
Heart hammering in my chest, I looked up and saw a man standing in the doorway with a furious look on his face.
This must have been Kale.
“I-I’m here to clean.” I stood up, consciously crossing my arms over my chest. “Sheryl… Uh, I’ve been hired as the keeper… House keeper.” God, get your shit together and stop stuttering, you idiot! “Sheryl hired me. As the housekeeper. Here.” Ugh, you ditz.
I wasn’t sure why I stuttered like that. It wasn’t me to muddle my words together.
He studied me for a short moment, but I swear that second seemed to stretch on for an eternity – long enough for me to take in his appearance. Well over six feet tall, broad shouldered, black ruffled hair, piercing blue eyes; he was hot. Beyond hot, actually. But it was his clothes that had me turning crimson. His jeans were unbuttoned and partially showing his black briefs underneath, and his dark blue checker top was almost entirely unbuttoned, revealing a heavily tattooed chest.
His eyes raked me over several times, and the awkward stretch of silence as he took his time was stifling. It was like he was thinking hard about something. His brows had come together, and as I stared into them, I felt a strange feeling come over me.
He looked familiar.
“What’s going on?” A girl appeared behind him, but I was too busy locking eyes with him to take in her appearance. From the little I could see, she wasn’t entirely dressed.
“Fucking Sheryl,” Kale cursed, shaking away whatever thoughts he had. “Get back in the room.”
When she did as he said, he walked over to me and put his large hand out.
Was I meant to shake his hand? Was this an introduction—
“Give me the spare house key. I don’t want you coming in and out like you own the place. Give it to me now.”
Startled by his scary tone and the dark look on him, I hurriedly reached into my pocket and withdrew the key. He yanked it out of my hand before I could even reach over to give it to him.
“I haven’t been coming in like I own the place,” I calmly explained. “It’s my first time. Sheryl told me there was no one here.” My words might as well have fallen on deaf ears.
“If I need this place cleaned up, I’ll give you a fucking call,” he retorted. “In the meantime, don’t think that you can strut into my goddamn house and touch whatever you want –”
“I was hired,” I cut in. “By your sister.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You have no right to be here.”
“I was hired to be here!” A wave of anger washed through me.
“Go clean some other fucking house,” he continued, eyeing me closely with the most intense blue eyes I’d ever looked into. When he saw my frown, he smiled wickedly. “What, is my tone angering your precious little ears –”
“No, it’s not,” I interrupted sharply. “I’m used to assholes like you.”
He looked surprised, and another strange look washed over him before he replied, “A definition of an asshole is asking someone who shouldn’t be in their house to leave?”
“No, it’s treating others like garbage – like you’re above them!”
“And how would you prefer I speak to an intruder in my house –”
“I’m not an intruder!”
“You certainly don’t look like a housekeeper –”
“And how are housekeepers meant to look like?”
“Not like you.”
Was he serious?! “Well, tough shit, because I am one.”
“Get this bitch out of here,” said the same girl from somewhere behind him.
“I told you to get back into the room, Dana,” Kale growled over his shoulder.
Feeling my adrenaline spike, I wanted to be anywhere but here. I took a few steps forward to get around him, but he blocked my way suddenly, standing in front of me like a wall. I tried to manoeuvre around him again, but landed against his chest in the process.
“Get out of my way!” I demanded, glaring up at his amused face.
Smiling, he moved back until he was in the doorway and his hand was across the open space between him and the door frame. He was completely blocking me from leaving.
“What’s your name?” he asked me in a softer tone, though it was still firm.
“Get out of the way,” I answered with instead.
“What’s your name?”
“Why does it matter?”
He shrugged, absently. “I just… ne
ed to know.”
I didn’t respond and continued my seething glare.
“Come on,” he pressed, “if you’re here to clean then you’re my employee. So technically I need your name.”
I stared at him evenly for many seconds, debating internally on whether to tell him or not. Then I figured the sooner he knew, the sooner I would be out of here.
“Krisa,” I said, reluctantly.
He went still for a second. His eyes went about my face, and then up and down my body.
“You came here to clean,” he then said, thoughtfully.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing else?”
What the hell was wrong with this guy? “Are you high or something?” I found myself asking in confusion. “I just told you your sister hired me to clean your house. What other reasons would I be here for?”
He stared at me longer than necessary before half-heartedly muttering, “Right.”
His gaze travelled about me, resting on the golden cross on my necklace. His brows came together again, like something wasn’t right before another wave of amusement struck his symmetrically defined face.
What was he finding so funny all of a sudden?
“Well, Krisa,” he then said in a deep, spine tingling voice, “I’ll give you a call when I need you, but I’ll be the one opening the door. Sound good?”
I shrugged. So now he was all reasonable and nice? What the hell ever. “Fine.”
He dropped his hand, and I went to leave when he grabbed me lightly by the arm. Looking down at me, he smirked and bent his head to my level. Even though my personal space felt invaded, I couldn’t move. I watched as he brought his mouth to my ear. Feeling his breath against it triggered a series of shivers down my spine.
What the hell was he doing?
“It was nice to meet you, Krisa,” he whispered. “I look forward to our next meeting.” He moved away until he was mere inches from my face.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Was this meant to be an intense moment? Was I supposed to feel some sort of passionate connection? Because I didn’t. The only intense thing I felt was the need to poke his eyes out.
I wasn’t some stupid girl. Nothing like the girl I was years ago. Shooting me sexy eyes wasn’t going to melt me into a puddle of goo and make my core wet and needy. But I wasn’t sure what his problem was. His eyes were right on my mouth, and there was nothing amusing in his expression anymore. He looked… entranced. I didn’t like the look. Admittedly, it made me a little nervous.
Especially when I caught the whiff of him. Why the hell did my body treat his scent with nostalgia? It was too familiar for comfort.
He let me go and I rushed out of there, ignoring the half-naked brunette standing outside a bedroom with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. I grabbed my supplies and left the house, grateful beyond measure when I finally got to my car and drove out of there.
Sheryl was right. Not an easy man. But I was right too.
He was an asshole.
One that had me wondering where the hell I’d seen him before.
Kale
She didn’t remember me.
Of course not.
It was two long years ago, and we’d both been drunk that night.
The club was nothing short of chaos. I’d downed a nasty load of scotch, and was sifting through the crowd, feeling that adrenaline buzz through my veins. I was on the prowl. I needed to be balls deep in a girl before the night was out. Too much bad shit lately had kept me back from a good lay.
So far the girls just weren’t doing it for me. I had to bat away wandering hands from countless faces I passed. I was getting a little frustrated, wondering why I was a picky fucker.
And then I saw her.
The spark I was searching for clicked in place. She was downing a shot, her long wavy brown hair falling away from her back as she raised the glass high. She knocked it back effortlessly before wiping her hand over her mouth. I saw her tongue flick out and lick along her lips, and it was an act done so absently yet so sensually, I was impressed. The girl was sexy without feeling the need to try. I watched her carefully, feeling like a creeper, as she joined her friends on the floor. I had a peculiar taste in women. They had to be sexy, sure, but there had to be something else about them that stood out among the rest.
This particular girl had cat-like eyes. As I neared her, I noticed her plump little lips. Her skin was pale, and her legs were long. They fucking went on for days, actually. She was dressed in hardly anything. A tiny little white top and a skirt that could have easily passed for underwear.
She started moving those wide hips, dancing without a single care in the world, moving so seductively, I had to stop and appreciate her movements for several moments. Fuckin’ hell, she was good.
And I wasn’t the only man that noticed.
There were a few guys already putting a mark on her, but they were shit out of luck. What I wanted, I got. And if they had a problem with me swooping in, my alcohol-fuelled mind was pretty fine with putting them in their place.
Without another beat, I approached the beauty from behind. My body migrated to hers without thought. The second she felt my body heat behind her, she turned her head to the side to look at me.
The second those eyes hit mine, I felt warmth spread through my chest. My cock stirred to life as she slowly opened her mouth into a wide smile, her gaze sliding up and down my body. She liked what she saw. I didn’t blame her. The girls fucking loved me. This wasn’t bragging, it was just a reality I’d lived for years. I was a big guy, but not overly big in a manner that might be intimidating to females.
Moving in closer, I dipped my face down to hers and loudly asked, “What’s your name?”
She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, looking like a fucking sex kitten, before she answered, “Krisa.”
Moving in even closer, I said huskily, “How about you dance with me, Krisa?”
Her eyes lit up, and she slowly nodded. “If you can keep up!” she hollered back, and I had to laugh at her cheekiness.
I put my hands around her hips and pulled her into me. Burying my face in between her neck and shoulders, we moved along to the beat for some time, body against body, acquainting with one another as the minutes passed, until I was wound up with need. She smelled heavenly. Her round ass confidently grinded against my cock, hardening it with every passing beat, and I groaned into her ear, unable to resist licking at the bead of sweat trailing the back of her neck.
In that instant, I’d marked her. No fucker came our way.
I needed inside her, and by the look on her face, I knew she felt the same way.
After we worked up a sweat, we headed off the floor and to the bar. Refusing to allow me to order her a drink, she ordered one for herself. I got another scotch.
“So what made you come my way?” she asked while we waited, her shiny eyes meeting mine.
“Not sure you’re ready for that kind of explicit answer,” I answered on a wink.
She smiled. “Lot of other girls, that’s all.”
“So?”
“So, I saw you around, and they were all over you.”
I laughed. “Didn’t know you had your eyes on me, kitten.”
“Long before you had yours on me,” she stated with a mischief look in her eye.
There was something pretty delicious about her. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. Maybe her confidence? But even then, that wasn’t entirely foreign for me. No, it was something else. Something hidden beneath her gaze.
Didn’t matter.
Point was, she was mine for the night.
We had our drinks without another word and returned to the dance floor.
Chapter Two
Krisa
When Aunt Marie asked me how the day had gone at the Brenner house during dinner, I simply told her it went well. Sometimes a white lie was needed in order to calm the woman down, es
pecially if the scenario had involved a half-naked woman and a partially undressed angry man ordering me to get out of his home.
“We’re doing prayer tonight,” said Uncle Paul sometime after. His dark eyes bore into the profile of my face. “Will you be coming, Krisa?”
What choice did I have? I nodded a yes, but that didn’t have him looking away from me, much to my dismay. Even after four years living under his roof, the large man intimidated me beyond words. I figured it was because he was only home every other month, giving me time in between to recover from his religious expectations.
“I thought we’d talk about your past again,” he added, sitting back comfortably in the kitchen chair.
I stiffened at the statement, feeling the dread form inside me. But I nodded again.
“We have some newcomers,” Marie explained. “And what better way to inspire them than to hear your story?”
What better way indeed. Nothing more awesome than being the centre of attention among a large crowd of followers, while they flesh through your humiliating past with such ease, you’d think it was a children’s story book. And nothing more delightful than having to nurse your reopened wounds thereafter, feeling the eyes of the newcomers pity you and then praise God for His miracles.
But this was the price that had to be paid. For now. I owed Marie. She did save me from homelessness and foster care. I’d had no one at the time, and knew nobody save for the thugs in the ghettos I grew up in. I wasn’t particularly easy, either. I rebelled when she took me in, getting smashed on weekends, hardly coming home unless I was genuinely in need of a roof over my head. There had been a lot of hostility from Paul at that point, and when it had escalated to a boiling point, Marie had pleaded for me to change. It took her breaking apart in front of me to do just that. It was on a particular night I couldn’t even recall most of, I’d walked through the door at four in the morning to find her asleep on the kitchen chair. I didn’t make it three steps before collapsing on the tile floor next to her, covered in my own vomit. I’d slammed my head so hard, it had split open, oozing a puddle of blood. When Marie had awoken, she’d screamed bloody murder, thinking I’d lain dead there for hours.